


Subtle as a Blowtorch

by Corvidology



Category: The Alienist (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Guys Made Them Do It, Darkest Night 2018, Darkest Night treat, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-18 19:05:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16124801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvidology/pseuds/Corvidology
Summary: Dressed for the opera, Laszlo looked splendid but the gag in his mouth definitely spoiled the overall effect





	Subtle as a Blowtorch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts).



Dressed for the opera, Laszlo looked splendid but the gag in his mouth definitely spoiled the overall effect, despite what the shameful voice inside his head was suggesting to the contrary. They were both certainly overdressed for Paresis Hall. 

 

They'd attended the opera together and he'd been so proud that he'd managed to stay awake all the way through it, even if it did have more to do with his newfound awareness of Laszlo than with Mozart's great work. He'd always harbored a great deal of respect and affection for Laszlo despite his coldness, admiring his dedication to his work in sharp contrast to his own rich wastrel existence. He'd had sexual experiences with other men, particularly back in his school days but then so had many men of his acquaintance who'd gone on to happily marry. He'd certainly been deeply, blindly and stupidly in love with Julia. He'd been in love with Sara as well and it wasn't until she'd turned him down, in the kindest way possible, he'd realized that apart from her great beauty, what had drawn him to her were nearly all the same things that had always drawn him to Laszlo. And then the tragic events surrounding the Beecham case had humanized Laszlo to a degree where John's stupid heart had settled on the impossible, as if his love for Sara hadn't been impossible enough. 

After the opera, Laszlo had told him of his concern for a boy who'd gone missing from his institute and the rumors that he'd taken up with the Paresis Hall boys. Laszlo was determined to go there, to make use of John's charm and his personal knowledge of the boys to hopefully find him. John was thankful he'd managed to resist reacting, his memory of that night long since having returned to him, much to his shame. He'd wanted to refuse but to be in Laszlo's company had become the sweetest misery, one he was powerless to resist. 

Of course they should have reckoned on Biff Ellison. Having heard from his boys that, once again, John was poking his nose into their business, he'd dispatched men into the ally to bring them into the building.

 

And here they were, John sporting the beginnings of a black eye and Laszlo gagged because Ellison just couldn't take anymore of his bullshit, Ellison's words not his, though he felt they were now in more danger than if Laszlo had managed to keep his mouth shut for once. 

Ellison stood in front of them, looking from one to the other. "I would have thought, Moore, your experience the last time you came sniffing around here would have put you off ever coming back."

He refused to look but knew Laszlo was now staring at him. He was far too clever not to deduce what Ellison must mean. 

"And this time you were stupid enough to bring your pompous little crippled doctor with you."

John turned to look as Ellison slowly circled Laszlo, before stopping to place his hand on Laszlo's good shoulder, the other on his upper arm which he twisted hard enough to produce a groan from behind Laszlo's gag. "Perhaps if we gave him two matching arms, you'd learn to leave us alone in the future." 

Laszlo glared at Ellison over his gag, defiant as ever. 

"Too bad it's not really an option. We're not willing to kill you – too many people would miss you – and we're also not willing to leave any physical evidence, like a broken arm, for your friend, Roosevelt, to pursue a case against us."

John relaxed a little into his chair. If Ellison didn't plan on killing them anything else they could survive.

"Perhaps if we were to offer the good doctor the same... hospitality we afforded you, he might think better next time."

John fought down a wave of panic, knowing Ellison was the kind of bastard who got off on fear. "That's not necessary, Ellison. Just let us go. Our conversations with your boys had nothing to do with your establishment."

"And I'm just supposed to take your word for it? After you closed us down once already? No, I don't think so. What to do, what to do."

One of Ellison's men whispered in his ear. John really didn't like the way he laughed as he looked at him and then Laszlo.

"Smudge has an excellent idea." Ellison put his hand under Laszlo's chin and turned his face up toward him. You're going to fuck your friend here. I don't think you'll enjoy it much, Moore is hung like a horse."

"Forget it, Ellison. You can't make me." 

"Oh but I can. Either you fuck him or Smudge and Garrett here are going to take turns with him and while neither of them are hung like you, something tells me they'd be nowhere near as careful not to harm him."

"Like you said, Roosevelt—"

"Would never be involved. It's not the sort of assault your dear doctor would ever be prepared to admit to, let alone be willing press charges."

Ellison was right of course. Forced or not, Laszlo couldn't afford such a scandal, not and keep his institute's doors open.

"So you or them? It's your choice, Moore."

Laszlo turned to face him, obviously trying to talk through the gag but he couldn't understand a word and was glad of it. He already knew what he was going to have to do, despite it costing him everything. He nodded, damning himself, unable to say the words. 

"Smudge, untie them." Ellison raised his gun and pointed it at Laszlo's head. "And don't try anything stupid."

Garrett held Laszlo, both arms pulled back – Laszlo's face was ashen – as Ellison turned his attention to John. 

"Strip, Moore."

He did as he was told, quickly standing naked before them. 

Smudge whistled.

Lazlo's eyes went wide as saucers. 

John has always been proud of his body but for the first time ever wished he'd been undersized. "Ellison, if you're determined to go through with this then have Kreizler fuck me. You said you couldn't afford to leave evidence he could show Roosevelt and his arm—"

"Will be fine once we tie him down."

"What? No!" He lunged towards Ellison, only to have Smudge hold him back, Smudge sinking his fist into his middle, making him double over in pain. 

Ellison held the gun on him while his men pulled Laszlo's tailcoat off and ripped his trousers and linen down past his knees. They tied Laszlo face down on the bed, restraining his legs and his good arm, his bad arm hanging loosely at his side. Laszlo had a surprisingly muscular, biteable ass— he was never going to feel clean again. 

"Get on with it, Moore."

"Is there any salve or—"

"This isn't about his or your comfort. You've got five minutes to get your cock buried balls deep in his ass before I hand him over to my men instead."

He climbed onto the bed, between Lazlo's spread legs, struggling not to think about how he'd have never have never been there otherwise, only about how he could do the least possible harm to Laszlo.

"You can't really expect me to—"

"Four minutes."

Laszlo was still mumbling against the gag, any trace of his voice further muffled by being face down on the mattress. 

He just had to do this, get it over with, get them both out of there and then he could drink himself into oblivion. 

He sucked his fingers, coating them as heavily with saliva as he could manage, given his suddenly dry mouth, and as gently as possible eased one up into Laszlo's ass. As far as the ropes would allow, Laszlo pulled away from him, his muscles clamping down hard. He stroked his other hand lightly down Laszlo's flank, hoping to communicate by touch that he was only endeavoring to hurt Laszlo as little as possible. He could feel Laszlo's body tightening further under him and knew he hadn't been successful. He eased a second finger inside, meeting even more resistance but persevering in moving them further in against the tightening muscle. 

"That's enough, Moore."

"But he's not ready yet and—"

"Never will be by the looks of it. Get on with it."

He spat liberally into his hand and stroked his cock to hardness, ashamed of how little effort it took, hovering over that beautiful ass, his fingers still deep inside Laszlo. He shuffled even closer, his weight on Laszlo's trousers stopping his attempts to pull his legs closer together. 

"I'm sorry, Laszlo, you'll never know how sorry." He widened his fingers, trying to ease the way for the head of his cock, knowing he was going to rip him open anyway. If only Laszlo weren't so damn tight. "I'm begging you, relax, please relax, I don't want to hurt you." Unbelievably, even for the contrary Laszlo, his muscles tightened even more around John's fingers before they suddenly relaxed as much as Laszlo was probably able. He pushed steadily forward, removing his fingers as he breached him, grateful for the pain Laszlo's too tight muscles were causing him as he heard the muffled sound of Laszlo's pained cries, gritting his teeth and persisting until the head of his cock finally made it completely through the outer ring of muscle. He worried Laszlo might suffocate as he breathed raggedly against the gag but didn't dare ask Ellison to remove it, whether for Laszlo's sake or his own, he didn't care to examine too closely. 

He'd dreamed of this for so long but now everything was ruined. 

He moved again, pushing further into Laszlo, aware of how much he must be hurting him without benefit of salve or oil, ashamed of how rock hard he remained despite it. His body at least knew no shame. 

Balls deep, he stilled, hopelessly trying to give Laszlo chance to adjust to the size of him, an impossibility given Laszlo's obvious lack of experience. 

Laszlo's head was thrashing against the bed and inevitably the gag worked loose. "For god's sake, John, just get it over with!"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Too late. Just finish it!"

Laszlo's words twisted a knife in his stomach.

"And just when we were beginning to enjoy the show." Ellison leering down at them was the final straw. 

He dropped his hands to the bed, leaning forward over Laszlo to take as much of his weight off him as he could before pulling out a few inches from Laszlo's body and slowly sliding back in. He fought back every base instinct urging him to take Laszlo the way he'd always dreamed of doing, instead exercising a level self-control he didn't know he had, inching slowly backwards and forwards. He wedged one hand under Laszlo's body, determined to try and bring him some pleasure in the act but his cock was soft and didn't respond at all to his ministrations. 

He felt the muzzle of the gun against his temple and stopped moving again. 

"Oh no, this won't do at all. I want the good doctor to remember the feel of you inside him for days to come, to remember, as he slowly heals, that it's not a good idea to mess in our business. Fuck him hard, Moore. Break him or we will." Ellison moved the gun to point it very deliberately at the elbow of Laszlo's good arm.

He had no choice, hating himself even more than usual for not being smarter or more resourceful. 

"John?" 

He would never forget the fear in Laszlo's voice but he couldn't let Ellison maim him. 

He withdrew his hand, pulled almost all of the way out and slammed home. To the sound of Laszlo's pained gasps and his own grunts of effort he kept going, picking up speed. He told himself it was because he'd soften if he paid too much attention to Laszlo's pain, that if he kept moving fast it would be over that much sooner, but he was painfully hard and getting harder by the minute. As he started to shudder, sweat pouring off him, the heat pooling low in his abdomen, he pulled out, jerking his cock once, twice, before he spent all over Laszlo's ass. 

"Why did you pull out?" Ellison sounded disappointed. 

"I thought you'd want to see the proof." In truth, Laszlo would still be bruised and torn and hate him but at least he wouldn't have to feel John's spendings dripping out of him. 

"I never want to see you around here again, Kreizler. Next time it will be a lot worse." Ellison dragged his gun barrel through the mess on Laszlo's lower back and then caught hold of Laszlo's jaw, forcing his mouth open and thrusting the gun inside a couple of times before wiping it off on the sheet and pocketing it. 

"You have ten minutes to get out of here on your own before my men throw you out on the street as you are."

Smudge cut the ropes and then they were alone. 

John scrambled for his own clothes, dressing quickly, wanting to cover his shame before helping Laszlo. 

When he turned to face the bed, Laszlo was already struggling to right himself, hampered by his trousers. John reached to help him and he flinched away. 

Laszlo glared up at him from under his disheveled hair, ripping the scarf they'd used to gag him from where it had slipped to around his neck, spitting on the floor and dragging his shirt sleeve slowly and deliberately across his mouth. 

He wanted to give him the time and space he so obviously needed but they couldn't afford it.  
"You have to let me help you, Laszlo, before they come back."

After what seemed like an eternity, Laszlo nodded at him and John moved to help him to his feet, Laszlo leaning on him with his good arm. He turned his face away carefully, not looking at Laszlo's nakedness as he dragged his linen and trousers back up his legs. Only one button had survived the rough handling and John fastened it, careful not to touch Laszlo's skin in the process. 

Laszlo dropped his arm from him and John stepped back as Laszlo stared down at his ruined and crumpled clothing. "Your Inverness." His voice was hoarse.

John glanced around and picked up his coat from where it was lying on the floor. He draped it around Laszlo's shoulders. Given their difference in heights it was long enough to skim his shoes but at least it covered up most of his damaged clothing. 

Laszlo took a step and his face distorted in pain, almost falling into the chair he'd been tied to. He moved to brace him and Laszlo let him while he regained his balance and then pushed John off, limping towards the door. 

"Just take me home." 

They had to pass Ellison in the hallway, his smile only getting bigger as he saw how stiffly Laszlo was walking, John trailing along behind him. He turned to one of his lads. "Get the gents a hansom cab. They shouldn't be out in a neighborhood like this at this time of night, who knows what might happen to them?"

Laszlo stopped and John knew he was about to do something stupid, so stepped between them, taking Laszlo's arm, leading him outside. 

 

The cab Ellison had summoned for them was waiting and he held the door open while Laszlo climbed gingerly up into it, having shrugged John's hand off when he'd attempted to help him. Now all he had to do was close the door behind him, direct the hansom cab driver and crawl deep inside a bottle. Laszlo, of course, had other ideas. 

"Get in, John." 

"I should be—"

"Cyrus and Stevie are away and I'm going to need some help."

"I wouldn't think you'd want..." _me._

"Better you than dragging someone else into this mess."

John got in the cab. 

 

John paid the hansom cab driver while Laszlo made his way slowly into his house. By the time John caught up with him, he'd shrugged off John's coat and was standing at the foot off the stairs, staring up at them. 

"Perhaps you should lie down on the couch instead."

"I wish to bathe, John, and that cannot be accomplished on the couch." 

"Then I'll carry you up them."

"You will do no such thing." If looks could kill, he'd already be six feet under. 

"Be reasonable, Laszlo, you're not getting up those stairs by yourself."

"Then I shall have to accept your help."

He started to take Laszlo's arm but again Laszlo flinched away. 

"I will manage. Just stay close in case I stumble."

It took time to make it up the stairs, Laszlo's breathing was labored and he had to make a few stops along the way, almost swaying back into John who was only a step behind him. By the time they reached the landing, Laszlo was sweating profusely. 

 

In the bathroom, he stood there helpless, waiting for instructions as Laszlo struggled to remove his bow tie and failed miserably, snorting in disgust. He gestured vaguely at his throat and John immediately stepped in as close as he dared to free Laszlo from his tie and shirt. Laszlo let them fall to the floor and John bent to pick them up. 

"Leave them. I'm going to burn them anyway." Laszlo reached for his waistband. "Please fill the bathtub for me."

John rolled up his sleeves and turned on the hot and cold taps, running his hand between them to judge when he'd reached the right temperature, struggling not to think about Laszlo stripping off the last of his clothing behind him. 

"There are Epsom Salts in the jar on the windowsill."

"It'll sting like blue blazes."

"I'm the doctor, John. Please do as I ask."

He did as he was asked. "Should I fetch your dressing gown from your room?" He still had his back turned to Laszlo. 

"I think it's a little too late to consider my modesty, John. If you would just help me into the bathtub, I think it might be easier to manage while the bathtub is still filling."

He finally turned to face Laszlo, who was now completely naked. 

"Your arm, John." 

He didn't realize he'd just been staring at Laszlo's face until he spoke. He held out his arm and Laszlo caught hold of it with his good one before stepping up and over the side of the bathtub. He saw the flash of pain on Laszlo's face as he almost stumbled, and wrapped his arms around Laszlo's chest to slowly lower him into the water. He didn't entirely understand Laszlo's stream of German curse words as Laszlo's body settled into the Epsom salts but he certainly got the gist of it. It took another glare from Laszlo for him to recognize he still had his arms wrapped around him. 

John let go and stood up. "I'll wait outside until you need my help getting out." 

"I would rather you stay."

He couldn't keep staring at Laszlo naked and vulnerable in the bathtub without losing what little he had left of his sanity so he sat down with his back up against the bathtub, the marble floor ice-cold through his thin dress trousers. He stared at the wall tiles, listening to the sounds of Laszlo slowing washing himself, an occasional drop of water hitting the back of his neck. 

"I'm sorry, Laszlo."

There was no response, which under the circumstances was probably the best he could have hoped for. 

All he had to do was keep it together long enough to see Laszlo safely out of the bathtub and into his bed and then Laszlo would never have to see him again. He was going home to get his gun and then he was going to put a bullet between Ellison's eyes. 

"Do not apologize."

"But Laszlo—"

"You have no reason to apologize. I tried to spare you from having to perform an act that is abhorrent to you but I know you did so only to save me from greater harm."

"Rape is an abhorrent act to any decent man."

"You are right of course, but the truth in that regard is that we are both Ellison's victims." He felt Laszlo's hand ghost briefly over his hair. If it wasn't for the slight dampness left behind by it he would have thought he'd imagined it. "From what Ellison said, it was not the first time you had received such treatment at his hands. I am sorry I never realized what had happened to you that night at Paresis Hall."

He'd had no idea that being forgiven when he didn't deserve it would hurt more than anything else already had. "Apart from the lack of choice and the repugnance of the first time involving children, I suffered no real harm either time, unlike you."

"By abhorrent act, I actually meant..." Laszlo paused for long enough he wasn't sure he would finish his thought. "...Being forced to have sex with a man, with me, even if it was necessary to save me."

 _But you are my best friend, Laszlo, and I would endure anything to save you from harm, even that._ That's all he had to say and they could put all this behind them. It might take a while to get over the inevitable awkwardness but they could be as they had always been, before John had realized he had always wanted more from Laszlo, that he wanted everything from him and with him. All he had to do was lie and accept Laszlo's forgiveness. That was all he had to do.

"Having Ellison and his men present, being forced to... rape you, being unable to prepare you properly, not being successful in offering myself instead, all of these things I regret." He lowered his head. "But, god help me, I was aroused by getting to have you, even under such circumstances. If I were worthy, if you were willing, there's nothing more in this world I would desire than to be with you, not only as your lover but in every way." 

This time, Laszlo's fingers sunk completely into his hair, twisting, forcing him to turn and rise to his knees or risk having his hair torn from his head. Laszlo kept pulling and then moved his hand suddenly to the back of John's neck, pulling him in and kissing him. John kissed back, helplessly enthralled until the pressure on the back of his neck eased and he moved mere inches back from Laszlo's face. 

"I feel the same way, John." 

"But you didn't, you weren't—"

"Like you, I might well have been, despite the circumstances, probably would have, if it wasn't for the sheer size of you combined with my complete lack of experience."

Laszlo took his hand and lowered it into the water where he could feel just how hard Laszlo was. He wrapped his hand around him and squeezed, just to hear him gasp in pleasure for the first time. He kept touching him as he leaned in again to press kisses to his mouth, whispering promises of what it would be like once Laszlo had healed, how different it would be with just the two of them, how Laszlo could have him any time and any way he wanted and that he'd never expect to take Laszlo again. 

"But what if I wanted that too..." Laszlo licked his lips nervously. "...Eventually?"

It was the first time he'd ever spent in his trousers, untouched. 

His hand sped up as he kissed the gasps and moans from Laszlo's lips, between promises of long drawn out lovemaking, oils and salves, of working him with his mouth and fingers for as long as it took, teasing him until he'd beg for it. 

He cradled Laszlo in his arms, murmuring more tender and filthy promises as he basked in his orgasm. 

He still wanted to kill Ellison... mostly. But he was only human and now he had what he'd always wanted most.

.


End file.
